


Figure it out

by bev_crusher1971



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bev_crusher1971/pseuds/bev_crusher1971
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His bat in his in his car, and his dad is at work ... Stiles has to figure out who's in his room, occupying his bed.</p>
<p>Not beta-ed, sorry. </p>
<p>Set loosely after 3x14 "More bad than good". My thoughts on how Derek should have come back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Figure it out

"You can figure things out, right? You're the one who always figures things out.“

Stiles Stilinski could still hear those words in his head, spoken in Lydia's terror-filled, breathless voice. And right now he wished desperately that she'd be right. Because right now he was looking at something that he really, really needed to figure out. 

There was a lump on his bed where there shouldn't be one. A lump that looked vaguely human. 

His first instinct was to call his dad but then he remembered that he was on duty tonight. Then he looked for his baseball bat which was in his car. Yay. Great job, Stilinski, he thought to himself. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a low groan coming from the lump on his bed. Involuntarily, Stiles made a step back, closer to the door, reaching for the handle. He could figure this out. He totally could, right? Lydia trusted that he could. So, he could. 

He swallowed as the lump moved again, and the cover slid down a bit, revealing dark hair. 

Dark hair that was awefully familiar. 

Carefully, he stepped closer. 

"He insisted on coming here,“ a voice from the shadows murmured quietly, and Stiles jumped, crashing with his back in the door. 

"Sssh,“ the voice admonished him, and a figure revealed itself from out of the darkness.

"Peter?“ Stiles gasped, his heart still going a mile a minute. "Whoa, what the ...? Jesus, can't you werewolfs just for once use the fucking door?“

Peter just smirked, and Stiles felt the fierce urge to wipe that smirk from the older man's face. 

"He wanted to come here,“ Peter repeated, "said he needed to feel safe to heal.“

Stiles swallowed. "And why are you here? Lurking in the shadows like a creepy stalker?“

Peter's smile grew a little. "I have to make sure he's safe. He is, after all, one of my two only remaining relatives.“

"Ah huh,“ Stiles nodded, not believing a single word. "So, now that I'm here, you can go.“

"You think so?“ Peter asked, provocativly, "Really?“

"Really!“ A low growl came from the bed, and both turned to Derek, who had pulled the covers down a bit, glaring at them. 

"Peter, go! You make him nervous, and I can't sleep with his heart hammering like that.“

Ah, there he was again. The famous sourwolf. Stiles couldn't help himself, and smiled. 

"Derek, you...“ Peter began but was immediately interrupted by the other werewolf. 

"No!“

With a scowl, Peter turned to the window and was gone a second later. Stiles sighed, before walking over to the window, locking it. Then he pressed his forehead against the cool glass, and murmured, "I wonder if it would help to install a doggy-door.“

"Wouldn't,“ a gruff voice commented his last thought. "Now calm down, lay down, sleep.“

"Yeah, sure,“ Stiles said sarcastically, "it's not as if my bed was occupied by a .. oh, well, let's say, a sour wolf. No wait, it is. So where the hell am I gonna sleep?“

Without a single word a part of the covers were lifted, and Stiles stared at his bed incredulously. "You're kidding, right?“

"Get in,“came the sleepy reply, "your virtue is safe with me.“

Oh, that so was not fair. Mocking his virginity was downright mean! Determined, he pulled his overshirt off with one head, while opening the fly of his jeans with the other. Just in his boxers and a T-Shirt, he climbed into bed with Derek fucking Hale. No, we wouldn't let a damned werewolf kick him out of his own bed. He moved, and turned, trying to find a cosy spot which put him preferably *not* in skin-to-skin-contact with afore mentioned werewolf. 

Suddenly an arm sneaked around his waist, pulling him close to the furnace aka Derek Hale in his bed, and a tired voice murmured, "Just lay still. I won't bite or fuck you, okay?“

No. 

No, definitely not okay. Not even on the same continent as okay. Stiles wanted to jump out of bed and run away as far and fast as he could. What confused him the most though was the fact that he wasn't so entirely sure why. Was it the mentioning of the bite or the fuck that had his pulse racing, and his cock stir in hopeful anticipation?

The hand on his stomach started to move. Slow circles that at first almost caused him a heartattack but after a minute or two was in fact soothing. So was the soft rumbling behind him which reminded him in a way of a big cat. He closed his eyes, let the sounds and the touches and the warmth behind him lull him into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

~*~

He awoke to the soft gasping sound of his father and his strained sounding, "Stiles?“

Sleepily, he opened one eye, and stared at his dad who was staring intently on something just beneath his, Stiles', chin. Something tickled his nose, and when he tried to move a hand to brush it away, he realized that said hand both of them actually were slung tightly around a werewolf who was clearly only pretending to sleep. 

Stiles cleard his throat, and reciprocated his father's gaze. "Dad?“ he asked in a quiet voice, the 'Is something wrong?' clearly audible. 

"Ahm,“ the sheriff said eloqulently, "maybe you can come down for a moment? I'd really like to talk to you about something.“

"Yeah, sure,“ Stiles replied easily, "as soon as I can pry this clingy werewolf off of me.“

He saw his father wince, and felt simultanously a soft chuckle against his collarbone. His dad nodded, and closed the door softly. 

"Clingy?“ the low rumble came from somewhere close to his neck. 

"Well, what would you call it?“ Stiles asked back, slowly moving his hands over silken skin with the intent on removing them completely from the warm body in his arms. 

But it seemed his sourwolf had a different opinion about this. With a growl, he pulled Stiles even closer to him though that hardly seemed possible. 

"You know that I have to go downstairs at one point to try to explain my dad why there is suddenly a cuddlewolf in my bed, right?“ he murmured, enjoying the closeness nonetheless. 

"M'not a cuddlewolf!“ Derek managed to sound sleepy and annoyed at the same time which was slightly endearing, "М'healin'.“

"Anyway,“ Stiles continued, slowly entangling himself from the tight grip the werewolf had around him, "you have to let me go for a moment.“

Very, very slowly, Stiles felt the losening of the strong arms around him, and with an almost indignant huff, Derek turned around so his back was to Stiles. 

Broad shoulders, smooth skin Stiles was severely tempted to reach out and touch. But then he shook his head. No, his dad was waiting downstairs, and Stiles knew that he must have had a million questions. 

The most important …

~*~

"What the hell is that werewolf doing in your bed?“

Ah yes, see, he knew that. He could figure things out. He was clever like that. 

"He was severly injured, Dad, and he needed someplace safe to heal.“ Better not mention Peter's presence in his room last night. His dad was still trying to come to terms with one werewolf in his son's bed. Adding a second one would just make him even more nervous. 

"And he didn't have a place of his own to go to?“

Well, technically speaking yes, there was such a place. 

"Apparently no, Dad.“

His dad sighed, and covered his eyes briefly with his hand. Then he put his hands in his waist, taking on the 'I'm not only the sheriff, I'm also your dad and I can ground your ass till you're 21' pose, and asked, "How long will he be here?“ He didn't need to add 'and you better not be lying to me, young man!' It was clearly audible to Stiles. 

"I don't know, Dad. Maybe just one or two more nights.“

And that definitely wasn't a lie. Though Stiles was sure that the moment his dad left the house so would his sourwolf, it was a nice illusion to think that he might stay a night or two longer. 

"Not more than two. If he's still here by then, he will have a lot more healing to do.“

Stiles nodded enthusiasticly. "Sure, Dad. Thank's, dad.“

He hugged his father tightly, before turning around and running up the stairs again. If he was lucky, he could get one last glimpse at Derek. 

As he opened the door to his room, he heard the frontdoor closing, announcing his father's absence. He took a deep breath, and slowly pushed the door open. 

He was still there, still laying in his bed, sleeping. Or pretending to sleep, he couldn't tell quite sure when he was so far away. 

"Comin' back to bed or wanna keep starin' a'me?“ mumbled the lump on his bed, the sourwolf making an appearance again. 

Quickly, he shed the jeans he had put on for his dad's sake (no need to worry him any further when he realized that his son was half-naked while a werewolf was clinging to him), and slipped back under the covers. 

Like a moth to a flame, Derek moved immediately to him, and abused him again as his own private teddy-bear. Тo,Stiles murmured quietly, "I could wrangle two more nights out of my dad. Think you're okay then?“

"M-hm,“ Derek huffed against his skin, indicating clearly that he was definitely not in the mood for talking. 

Without thinking - too much at least - Stiles closed his arms around the werewolf again, pulling him a little closer. He closed his eyes again, and let the warmth and the gentle breathing pull him under. 

There were worse things than a cuddly werewolf in his bed, he decided before sleep claimed him again. 

The end


End file.
